


Gilded Cage

by orphan_account



Series: Hidden Skies [1]
Category: Princess Tutu
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-05
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-08-29 03:07:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8473105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A companion piece to Bridging the Sky, taking place directly after its fifth chapter. Mytho contemplates his current situation.





	

Whatever he'd expected after he'd been ripped out of his home, it hadn't been this.

In truth, though, Mytho wasn't sure exactly _what_ he'd been expecting. He'd spent so long running from this possible outcome to his situation, pinning his hopes on girl after girl, that he hadn't let himself truly think about what might happen if the worst case scenario became reality. Why would he have wanted to? He'd believed every time that _this_ time he'd finally found the girl who'd stay with him, that it'd finally work out. It had been hard, sometimes, but he'd clung to it. Especially once he found Ahiru. She'd given him more reason than anyone to hope that he'd beaten his nemesis, that release from his curse was in sight.

Until he'd awoken in the middle of the night, to see her face bathed in candlelight. One glimpse, that was all, borne of reckless human curiosity. One glimpse, that had been all it'd taken to shatter his hopes forever and tear them apart. And now, because of that one glimpse, he was... here. In this gilded cage that felt like a cruel mockery of everything he'd given Ahiru.

In those fleeting moments when he'd allowed himself to entertain the possibility that things would come to this, had he envisioned being thrown into a dungeon to await his fate? Perhaps. In the end, he both had and hadn't received one. This room was no dank cell, but a large and lavish living space. Not so large as the quarters he'd bestowed upon Ahiru, but equally well-furnished, with every amenity a person might need or enjoy. Indeed, were he a guest, he would have no cause for complaint about the luxury he now found himself in.

But he was no guest. A fact made all the plainer by the thick bars on the inside of every window. _Iron_ bars, no less. If he stayed well away from them, all was well, but if he ventured too close he began to feel the faint stirrings of nausea. Mytho knew he dared not touch them.

He sighed. Dawn had come and gone in this place, so far from his home, and from outside his locked door and even on floors above and below him, he could hear the faint noises of castle staff going about their work. It only served to make him more homesick, for he could not help but think of his own staff, and wonder what they were doing at that moment. His absence would be hard on them in many ways, and he worried. Not only that, but he missed them. He had taken the time to learn all of their names, to speak with them all if he saw them at work, to encourage every person who lived in his palace and do his best to make them feel welcomed and cared for and at home, no matter who they were or where they came from, regardless of their heritage. He hadn't seen much of this castle, but it was obvious that things could not be more different. How could they not be, with such a master ruling over them? His captor was infamous for his cruelty, even amongst his peers in the Unseelie Court. It seemed unlikely that his staff were treated well, and it moved Mytho's heart to pity and sorrow. Surely they deserved better! Perhaps he could attempt to institute some positive change in the household once he was wed to its princess? There was naught he could do to change his own fate, but maybe he could yet alter those of others, make life kinder for them? If he focused on that possibility, it could help him keep his strength through what was to come.

For his captivity had only just begun, and he could see no end to it.

Mytho paced around his room. For all its finery, there were few sources of entertainment. He'd given Ahiru pieces of technology favored by humans, a television and a laptop, and free access to all areas of his palace, including the library. There were no such things available to him, and as the door was barred, he could not freely roam the castle and its grounds. A handful of dusty books sat on a shelf near the bed, but how long would those last? And as venturing too close to the windows made him vaguely ill, gazing out at the landscaping wasn't an option. That thought made him sigh again, with thoughts of the wonderful magic Freya worked upon his palace. It was too soon yet for spring to bring bountiful life to the outdoor gardens, but doubtless the greenhouse was brimming over with it. It had been too long since he'd been able to walk in it, having been condemned to a form too large to fit through its doors, but nevertheless he longed to see it. There were so many things, and places, and people, that he longed to see, so much that the ache in his heart seemed almost physical. How would he ever endure this?

As he stood in the center of the room, contemplating whether it would be worth it to stare out one of the windows for a while, the sound of the door unlocking behind him caught Mytho's attention. Startled, he whirled around to see a young woman entering the room. She was slender and petite, clad in a drab grey gown, with her hair bound up and hidden beneath a matching cloth, and she started in surprise as she saw him. “Oh! Forgive me, milord, I did not realize anyone was here... I will leave you be, with my apologies!” She lowered her gaze to the floor, her face coloring with embarrassment.

A maid, Mytho realized, seeing the cleaning supplies on the cart behind her. “No, no, please—stay.” He shook his head and stepped forward. “I do not wish to impede you in the course of your work, particularly if it will cause difficulty for you with those you answer to.”

“You are too kind, milord.” She curtsied deeply, and still did not look up at him. “Very well... if you insist, then I shall be about my business, and will try not to disturb you.”

“Nonsense.” Mytho smiled and waved his hand. “It is I who shall try not to get in your way, and you have leave to command me to move as need be so that you may complete your work to your satisfaction.”

“Oh, I could not,” she demurred, even as she pulled her cart of supplies into the room and closed the door behind her. The lock clicked into place seemingly without her doing anything, confirming Mytho's suspicion that it was of magical, not physical, origin. “Yet I do appreciate your kindness, unusual though it be.”

“It would be a better world, I think, if kindness were not seen as unusual.” Mytho sank into a nearby chair. It had been on the tip of his tongue to say something less general, but recognized in time that he should not comment directly on the state of this household to one of its servants.

“Perhaps you are right.” The maid chose a long-handled feather duster from her cart, and began to whisk it over various objects in the room. “I know little of the world beyond this castle, however, so I cannot say what things are like outside these walls.”

“It is... not without its dangers. Nor its charms.” Mytho stared down at his linked fingers as they rested in his lap.

“So I have heard.” She continued to dust. “What brings you in from it, if I may be so bold as to inquire? Some business with the master of this castle?”

“You might say that.” Mytho could not stop himself from sighing. “I am... bound to be here, in a sense.”

“Then... you are the prince I have heard talk of amongst the other servants?” He could hear awe in her voice. “The one who will wed our princess?”

“Indeed.” Mytho nodded. “I am he.”

“My goodness! I did not realize!” He looked up in time to see her sink into another curtsey. “I am honored beyond words, to have the opportunity to speak with you, and to tidy up your quarters. Forgive me for not immediately discerning your identity, milord!”

Mytho shook his head. “No pardon is required, as I have taken no offense. Worry not about me.”

“As you wish.” She turned her back on him again, and resumed dusting. “Still, a wedding... how exciting!”

“I suppose.” Mytho turned to stare at the window, at what little of the sky he could see beyond the bars. It was nearly as grey as the iron.

“You are... not pleased?” The maid's hands stilled on the porcelain figures she was beginning to carefully move from their resting place atop a glass table. “Is it true then, that you do not wish to marry our princess? Is there someone else to whom you have pledged your troth?”

“Not entirely.” Mytho closed his eyes. Without being bidden, the memory of Ahiru's face rose to the surface of his mind. “I had asked her to be my bride, yes, but she had not yet given me an answer.”

“Then why mourn her loss, if she was never truly yours to begin with?” There was a slight clinking as she replaced the figures, having dusted both them and the table. “Particularly since her faithlessness is what brought you to this castle in the end.”

“Not faithlessness,” Mytho protested, his grip on the chair tightening. “Merely... foolishness. An incurable curiosity, as humans are wont to have. I had sought to curb it as best I could, but in the end she succumbed, to her regret as well as mine.”

“How unfortunate for you both.” She bent low, dusting a shelf close to the floor. “So it is what might have been between you that haunts you, then? Not what was, but what you think may have happened?”

“Perhaps.” Mytho opened his eyes and sighed. “But not entirely. I do think she would have accepted my offer, given time, and that she cared for me as I care for her. Her absence, too, weighs on my heart.”

“And you do not think our princess could fill that space in your heart, were she too given time?” She rose and walked over to the windowsill.

“I do not know.” Mytho traced his finger over a pattern in the upholstery. “I have never met your princess. All I know of her is what her father has told me.”

“I see.” The maid nodded. “And you believe all that he has said to you of her?”

“I...” Mytho paused. Who _was_ this young woman? Certainly, she was a maid, but where did her loyalties lie? What stories had she been asked to pass on of him, and to whom? He needed to be careful with his words. “It is not for me to say, and I am not inclined to accuse others of lying without proof.”

“Oh, of course not, I too would never dream of such things.” She set her duster down and moved to straighten up the pillows on his bed. “I merely am aware that his lordship is not overfond of his daughter, and wondered if that too is a source of your reluctance to be wed to her, beyond even your lingering feelings for this other girl.”

“I cannot deny that it has given me pause.” Mytho shifted, uncrossing his legs and then crossing them again. “What person would be encouraged, after all, by hearing unpleasant things about the one they are soon to marry?”

“No one, I suppose.” Having finished tidying the bed, the maid picked up her duster again. “I can hardly blame you for having your mind made up against her already.”

“No, do not misunderstand—I did not say that my mind was made up already.” Mytho shifted again. “I am trying not to, at the very least. My natural inclination is towards fairness, and so despite what I have heard I am determined to wait until I have made her acquaintance to fully form my opinion. I do not believe that anyone is without redeeming features, after all.”

“That is indeed fair, yes.” She coughed, having accidentally swept some dust into her own face. “You think her father was being untruthful, then?”

“I think that it would be wrong, and hasty, to allow my view on a stranger to be entirely shaped by the words of another.” Mytho looked at the window again. “We all have our biases and quarrels with others, yes? And those biases and quarrels influence how we see them, often without our fully realizing it. It is with that in mind that I refuse to form a full opinion on the princess without first meeting her.”

It was not a lie. Certainly, the girl's father had spoken so harshly of her that it had increased his fear of being caught in this very situation, and it did not give him much confidence in his chances of happiness after being married to her. Yet, doubt remained—did he really place full trust in the words of someone so vile? And did it not benefit him to attempt open-mindedness, in hopes of making the best of his own future? Most damningly, though, it seemed to go against his own deeply held beliefs of being loving and accepting towards all. His heart still yearned for Ahiru, true, and it seemed a betrayal of all he felt and had hoped for with her to allow himself to move on with anyone else, but if there was nothing he could do about it, why should he make himself more miserable than he had to be? Why should he betray his own values, and judge someone he didn't know before even meeting them? There were many reasons why he should act as he was telling this maid he would, and he was determined to do so.

“Fair enough. It is a commendable approach.”

“I—“ Mytho broke off. He watched her for a minute or two, before summoning up the courage to speak again. “What is your opinion?”

“Eh? She paused again in her dusting. “My opinion of what?”

“The princess.” Mytho coughed into his hand. “As one who works here, surely you must be acquainted with her by now...?”

“The princess? Hmmm...” The maid resumed her work, taking a lengthy pause before replying. “In truth, I am not overfond of her myself. But since it is your wish to come to your own conclusions about her, I will say no more, so as not to unduly influence you.”

“I understand,” Mytho said, though his heart sank at hearing another source speak unflatteringly of his bride to be, however briefly. “Forgive me for placing you in an awkward situation.”

“Nay, milord. You have done me no injury and need not apologize.”

“... If you say so.”

They both fell silent after that; Mytho brooded in his chair while the maid worked to tidy up the rest of his room and the attached bathroom. At last, however, she finished, and moved to place her tools back in her cart. Only then did she finally speak to him once more. “I am finished now, milord, and must depart; is there aught you wish of me before I do?”

“No, I am fine, and do not wish to keep you.” Mytho shook his head. “Go with my blessing, and appreciation of the work you have done.”

“Very well, I shall.” She smiled as she dipped into yet another curtsey, her eyes finally meeting his. For the first time, he was able to see their unusual scarlet color, as well as the raven-dark lock of hair that had slipped free of its covering while she cleaned. “Good day, milord.”

He wished her the same in return, but barely heard his own voice as he spoke the words. And as the day went on he found himself scarcely able to think of anything but those strange, disquieting eyes of hers.

 


End file.
